Chapter 15: A FEW DAYS LATER

(This chapter goes to the song Blowin' in the Wind by Bob Dylan)

Dick soon found out that the school was pretty laid back. After his first week, he realized that seniors and juniors, if they already had the credits needed to graduate, only have two classes each day. There were ten-minute locker times and the school was small enough that you were able to wander around the top floor twice and still make it to class with a minute to spare. His locker was close to homeroom, which he was very grateful for and was relieved when he found out that all of his classes, despite being in different departments of the school, where close enough that he could reach them easily. He hung out by his locker a lot, waiting until the last two minutes to weave through the halls to get to his classroom.

He still did not have any friends, but Dick found that quite comforting because he had figured not to long ago that friends would want to see where he lived and he figured that would be awkward if he took them to an old condemned opera house. He felt lonely and he was still struggling with his depression and his own thoughts. There was always, of course, this deep thought in the back of his mind that he didn't need friends and that Bruce and the team were coming for him but beyond that, much further into his mind, he felt as if they weren't. This fueled his depression and, of course, Dick secretly knew that and didn't do anything about it.

He had lost interest in many things though, such as working as the hero and drawing. He hadn't done a lot of drawing in the first place since he came here but when he was, still in the other place he frequently drew Robin, Batman the team, Gotham City, Haley Circus… his parents. He would often place them in a hidden compartment behind a large tapestry in his room, where most of his drawings and letters to his parents were hidden. Bruce didn't know he drew at all, didn't know he had any artistic ability, because he was so linear (apparently) with his thought process. Only Barbra knew about his drawings, only she encouraged him to draw them. He drew her one time and she kept it, saying it made her look beautiful.

He told her she didn't need the picture to look beautiful.

He liked Babs. He liked her a lot and everytime he thought about her and her ginger head and blue eyes he always felt so pained. She did look beautiful.

Then, of course, there was Zatanna, the Galway* girl. He grinned at the thought. He was struggling between the two, despite being with Zatanna for a few months; Dick was still best friends with Barbra. He knew her and she him. It wasn't like Zatanna, who only knew his as Robin. Babs knew is favorite color, food, book (Wally said it was cheesy but Dick's favorite book was The Fault in Our Stars by John Green) and his favorite artist, music, singer, band, British Prime Minister, Doctor, Winchester; everything about him. They were like two peas in a pod and they acted like it, because he knew everything about her too.

He stilled liked Zatanna and now he felt as if he'd abandoned her, as if he'd planned this, he was fourteen and his crush on Babs had only grown, while Zatanna's seemed to have shrunk. He didn't like to admit it, but his affection for his ginger friend had somewhat always been there.

It was one of those things were you don't know what you have until you'd lost it.

He suddenly lifted himself from his locker and his thoughts, brushing past a cute couple. He walked toward the English department, sighing deeply as he walked past another couple, kissing far too affectingly to be appropriate in school. He was hugging a book close to his chest, not having bothered to stuff it in his backpack when he was leaving class. Now, they were reading Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare and his teacher had told them that Romeo was actually, in today's society, which depressed Emo kid in the back of the room who knew absolutely nothing about love and could only speak in oxymoron's. They also concluded that Juliet was a whiney butt who was stubborn, independent, and strongly disliked Paris.

Dick felt as if his life was dragging on as they read the book.

Kids who couldn't read well volunteered for everything. "…that que..quen…quench the fire of you-r rage/ with purple… fountains issue…issue…issuing from your veins! On pain of torture, from… those… bloody hands. Thor your mis….mistemp…mistemper, wait, distempered weapons to… the ground…". It certainly showed the difference between public education and private education because all Dick could think about was how those kids got past second grade. He volunteered for something, preferably Benvolio, so he could have a big part and speed things up.

The red headed kid got it and when he did he leaned forward and whispered in Dick's ear "you're pathetic" and all Dick could do was restrain himself from turning around and knocking the guy into next Friday.

Suddenly, he was grabbed roughly by a strong hand and was ripped from the hallway into a bathroom. The red headed boy and a boy Dick had never even seen before were looming over him, the red headed boy's freckled fist clenched tightly around his sleeve, pulling the fabric.

"Hey!" Dick called out, just as the unidentified boy slapped a hand over Dick's mouth. Dick's mind, of course, went back to all the times he was kidnapped as to get a ransom out of Bruce Wayne. He struggled almost immediately, pulling at his captors hands.

"Hey," redhead hissed, "quite idiot!" This only made him struggled harder. The unidentified kid then punched him in the stomach. He doubled over in pain, his broken rib from his confrontation with White Rabbit not completely healed. It didn't matter how much training you had, a broken rib is a broken rib. He almost fell to the ground, but then he was yanked backward and shoved against the wall. His head smacked against the hard concrete and he groaned, his vision filled with red and black spots. He was getting furious. His backpack and book were on the ground and he watched lazily as the unnamed boy kicked them across the dirty floor, smirking crudely.

The red headed kid, who Dick suddenly remembered to be named Collin, pushed him further up the wall, his face contorted in a crude sort of sneer. "Look, Richard. You and I have a problem."

Dick tried to rip at the boys pale hands. "We… we do?" he struggled to say, though he was pretty sure it came out as "we-ooh?". He tried to rip the boy's hands away, but he was struggling to breath. He tried to kick, but the other boy held his legs down so he couldn't and the muscle that Dick had built up was trying it's hardest to kick the crap outta both of these boys. He glanced around the bathroom. One good thing about them, lots of hard surfaces.

"Yeah, we do. Look, you are just soooo arrogant. Answering all the questions and making us look like idiots." He smashed Dick's head against the wall again. A cry of pain ripped from his throat and he spasmed, kicking out with his legs. The boy grunted with pain, his eyes widening as Dick's leg hit is private area. He fell to the ground, whimpering. Dick felt sorry almost immediately.

"Well," Dick grunted as he was punched in the gut. "I don't know about arrogant and I don't know about making you all look like idiots, you don't seem to need my help with that." Bruce did say he was a little impulsive and at that moment, he couldn't but agree more with that statement. Collin growled in frustration and slammed him on the ground. Dick lot out a cry of pain, his vision was suddenly filled with black spots and a flash of rainbow. He heard a lot of yelling and suddenly he was lifted from the ground abruptly yet carefully and was carried out under someone's arm. He fell asleep soon after that.

Dick woke up in the nurse's office, a doctor leaning over him and frowning. He had a pounding headache and the lights around him seemed to be flashing in and out of darkness. "Son, are you alright?"

Dick sat up, blinking rapidly, but was pushed down with soft hands back into the pillow. He nodded his throat dry and the taste of dry blood in his mouth. He was handed a glass of water and the doctor leaned away, still frowning as he gulped it down without a breath. He saw a tall woman with frizzy brown hair and cold, black eyes. Her hands were crossed over her chest and her brown suede shirt and skirt glinted dully in the light.

"What happened?" The frizzy haired lady asked, stepping forward as a frown that seem familiar with her face contorted it so she looked like a gawking seagull. The Doctor shot her a warning look. "He may have a concussion, don't be aggressive and if he answers slowly be patient."

Frizzy made no acknowledgement that she heard him.

"Well?" she snapped.

Dick blinked, staring at her. He was unsure of what she said and, for a moment, he simply stared at her with a dazed look on his face. "Uh… what?" Yeah, it was a concussion. He'd dealt with them before but that didn't change the fact that he had one. She sighed and turned toward the doctor. He lazily followed her movements, trying to recount what would have caused this. At first, nothing and then… the fight, or more like the torture. He didn't even really fight. It was more like a lot of kicking and grunting and antagonizing. He got into an encounter with Collin, the redheaded freckly kid from English that looked like he had swallowed a hippo.

"He won't be able to answer for a while," the doctor said to the frizzy woman. He turned to Dick, who watched dully. "Well, Richard, we called your parents but all we got was an answering machine. I recommend relaxing, we will send you home. Do not walk, please son. Call your parents to see if they can pick you up."

For a moment, all Dick could do was stare at the doctor with a frown on his face. Parents? He didn't have any parents, they were dead. He had Bruce, but right now Bruce was too far away to answer the phone. Then he remembered, he was stuck here with fake parents. He glanced up at the doctor, and then looked away. "Yeah, okay I'll call them." He reached out for a phone, his palm straight and open for someone to place it in.

The doctor stared at him, looking very worried. "Don't you have your own?" He asked, leaning forward and squinting at Dick's eyes. They were a hazy blue, instead or their striking cerulean.

"Oh, um, yeah." He slowly reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. He pulled it out and watched as the doctor and frizzy haired woman's eyes widened. The frizzy woman glanced down at the Blackberry in her hand, which she was gripping tightly, and looked resentfully back at his. He typed Barbra's number into the number pad, figuring no one would have the number.

It started ringing but before he could react out of panic, a familiar voice pierced the phone.

"Hello?"

It was Barbra Gordon's voice, but it wasn't.

"Sorry," he shot out abruptly, causing the frizzy haired woman (he really needed to know her name but he was guessing she was the principal) to jump in surprise. "Wrong number." Then he ended the call and shook his head. He had only thought he heard her voice, but it really wasn't her's. It was just someone who sounded like her. They probably weren't even a ginger.

"Let me… let me try that again," he mumbled, typing in 228-626-7625 (which spelled Batman-rock if you spelled it out) and pretending that it was ringing. He then had an elaborate conversation with his mother, telling her that he had been in a fight and was suffering from a minor concussion. He reassured her that she was okay and asked her to pick him up. Just as the doctor tried to talk to her, she had to go.

"Sorry," he shrugged lazily. "She really needs to go. Write a note?"

The doctor complied, albeit reluctantly.

EARTH-16: MOUNT JUSTICE 7:15 AM EAST WING, BEADROOMS

Wally and Artemis were both staring off into space when he looked over and sighed.

"What?" she asked, looking at the ceiling with obvious disinterest.

"You know what," he inclined, turning over on his bed to stare at her. She sat up, her back now facing him and glanced away.

"I know, I know. I feel it too. It's only been a day and seven hours. You need to calm down."

Wally didn't speak for a while, his eyes scrutinizing as he looked away. It's not that, he thought, it's something else. Turning back on his back he felt a sudden sense of his stomach flipping over, as if he were on a rollercoaster (which were not as amusing as a speedster) and he sat upright, eyes wide and a look of revelation on his face. "Did you feel that?"

Artemis didn't look back at him as she replied, "Feel what?"

He paused and then, "Nothing."

They were both silent, wondering how Robin was doing as he was in another world. Artemis was worried sick about her "baby". Ever since she and Wally had gotten together after months of flirting/not flirting, she had taken to calling him "baby" and "child." He then started calling her "mother" and Wally "father." She would fuss over him, always checking for injuries and then demanding he tell her if he had any affection for girls, knowing that he was with Zatanna. Wally would tell him to do his homework and have good grades and to be respectful to Zatanna.

"Mother, father is being demanding to me!" He would yell, she would fuss, Wally would go defensive, and Aunt Meagan and Uncle Connor would laugh. Overall, it was great and funny and made them feel more like a family.

Wally was feeling irritated that he could do nothing and was blaming himself and telling himself that Dick would be alright, though not knowing if he would. He looked over at Artemis and grabbed her hand. "It's not that I'm worried, though I assure you I am, I mean, we got all that done in a day and seven hours. Doesn't it seem a little… weird that we got everything, such as almost finishing the Transporter, done in one day and seven hours? We got back from the mission, told our stories, talked to Black Canary, figured out what was going on, and started and almost finished building the converter-transporter-do-hickey. I mean, doesn't that seem almost a little unrealistic in one day and seven hours?"

Artemis didn't answer as she thought it through. She gripped his hand, biting her lip as she thought about it. "Now that I think about it… yeah. It seems more fit for something you'd read than something in real life."

"Exactly," Wally exclaimed excitedly. "It seemed to pass by in a blur, like it really wasn't happening. I remember it all, doing it, but it just feels like I was in a haze the whole time, like time was speeding up and then slowing down. It feels-"

"-Like it didn't really happen?" Artemis asked, feeling unnerved.

"Exactly."

She shrugged, turning away and standing up, crossing the room to look in the mirror. She peered into it, her grey eyes focused on her reflection. "I don't know, Wally. I guess… it went by so just fast."

"Yeah," Wally interjected quickly, jumping up to stand behind her. "Even for me and normal time for you is like hours for me. It went by fast, and in all honesty I don't really think it should have."

Artemis nodded, staring at his reflection while he stared at hers. "I agree."

"Yes… and… and it was just-"

"Unnerving?" Artemis continued for him. He nodded.

"Unnerving."

EARTH PRIME MIDTOWN HIGH SCHOOL, GUIDANCE OFFICE, A FEW DAYS LATER

Dick gulped as he stared up at the sign dictating where he was supposed to go. He sighed deeply, fingered his backpack straps delicately and pushed open the door into the school Psychologists office. He hated counselors, especially these kinds. They thought that just because you told them everything, even when you could be lying, that they had the answer to their problem. Tons of people faced this everyday, they said, and with blah blah blah you'll be fine! You just have to believe! Moreover, Dick, for one, strongly disliked it because just because tons of other people faced this, it didn't mean he would too. He was a completely different person, with completely different thoughts, actions and speech. Whatever they said wouldn't comfort them.

In addition, of course, the fact that he was smarter than most of them did not tend to help the situation.

"Yes, may I help you?"

Dick cleared his throat. "Um, yeah… I wanted to, um, talk." He didn't understand why he was so nervous. He should be walking out of here and going home, where he could throw himself into working on his project for Romeo and Juliet and then go out as Robin.

The man, who was sitting at a paper filled, messy desk nodded and pushed his paperwork out of the way. A plaque on the front of the desk says Dr. J. Patriach.

"Of course, of course! Come on, sit down! Let me get my notepad, you don't mind if I write stuff down do you?"

Dick found himself shaking his head. Dr. Patriach was a young man with black hair and green eyes and pale skin, as if he didn't get out a lot. He was wearing a pair of black suit pants and a white, button up shirt with a bowtie, which was red, on top. His black 'MIDTOWN COUGAR SOCCOR TEAM' jacket was thrown precariously over his chair, which a large briefcase was situated next to, which Dick could see was over-flowing with papers. Dick noticed almost immediately that he was just married, lived in Brooklyn and had just bought a new car. His wife was also pregnant and they were picking out colors for the room.

"Great, now, what's your name?"

Dick took his seat, setting his backpack on the ground nest to the large leather chair that was too clunky for the gray-walled, small suffocating office. "Richard Grayson."

"Alright," Patriach scribbled it down quickly on the paper. "Any nicknames? Rich? Richie?"

"Just Richard," Dick sniffed, unwilling to give up his nickname to the man. Patriach nodded in understanding. He leaned back in his leather chair, crossing his legs so that his dress shoes almost touched Dick's backpack.

"Alright, what seems to be the problem?"

"I think I'm depressed," Dick blurted out before he even really knew what he was saying.

Patriach leaned forward, his expression suddenly sullen and worried. "Really? And why would you think that?"

Dick hesitated, leaning forward a bit also. He found himself suddenly so willing to pour out everything that was happening, even the parts about Robin and Iron Man. He found himself wanting to tell the Doctor about coming over here and how he was from an alternate dimension and how he felt so alone and so worried and how he had no one to tell him it was going to be alright when though it probably wasn't.

He carefully chooses his words as he spoke. "I… I feel abandoned."

Patriach nodded for him to continue, unwilling to interrupt. It was best not to interfere.

"And I feel… alone. I feel like my family, my really close family, has abandoned me and I don't know what to do know."

"Like your family has abandoned you? Why is that?" Patriach inquired as he quickly wrote down what Dick said to him.

Dick rubbed his hands together, praying to God to tell him why he was here. Well, as his mother always said, 'God isn't fair, whether that is good or bad for us, we have to find out.' He took a shaky breath. "I feel like that because… I was so close to my family, despite our flaws and fights and our problems and issues-" he chuckled humorlessly "-and I loved, love, them so much. I always wanted to do what my dad did but I feel like he's just left me. Not literally, of course." Lie. "Just in the way where we're not close anymore."

Patriach frowned but nodded, writing it all down. "And, er, stereotype question, but how does that make you feel?"

"Depressed, Dr. Pat-arch, that's why I'm here."

"It's pronounced Pat-re-arch. You can call me Jason, however. Moreover, I am fully aware of why you are here. What I mean to say, is well, how do you feel about this? What are your thoughts?"

Dick flinched and hoped Pat-re-arch didn't see it. "My thoughts? My thoughts are screwing me over. I feel, inside, that they aren't coming back at all. That I'm alone and I'm just… I'm just sad."

Scared. He was so scared and all he wanted was for some one to tell him it would be all right.

"I'm… disappointed." He stated.

EARTH PRIME: AVENGERS TOWER

"Look, Natasha, you need to calm down!"

"Shit Stark, if you think I'm going to calm down then you are insane-"

"I beg to differ, my mother had me tested."

"-and just because Banner thought I bought his story doesn't mean I actually did. Coffee? On your notes? Seriously? You have electronic versions of everything, Stark. I know what you were really doing. You found the kid for SHIELD, didn't you?"

Tony, figuring that she would try and trick him for something, struggled with what to say. Yes, or no, because if he said 'no' than when he did get the kid to come here she would be even more pissed and if he said 'yes' that would be admitting he knew where he was.

"Yes, I found him."

She paused and recoiled, as if not expecting that answer. "Yes? You found him? And you haven't gone to get him?"

Tony didn't smile or smirk. He hated admitting this. "He won't come with me."

"What do you mean he won't come with you?" Natasha's demeanor had returned to what it normally was like; she had returned to cold and demanding. "For heavens sake, you're the goddamn Tony Stark-"

"And I'm not forcing that on him," Tony replied calmly, his voice dangerously low. Natasha made no move toward him. "I'm going to wait until he needs me, and when he does, that'll be the day that I go after him and bring him ho- back."

Home.

He almost said home.

"You better know what you're doing," Natasha remarked and then walked away. Tony sighed, looking away.

He almost said home.

To be continued...

Pace: this is it folks, sorry. It fluctuates but this is mainly where it stays. I'm not even halfway through the fic guys.

*Galway girl: A girl with black hair and blue eyes; generally of irish heritage

Sorry for slow update, I made the track team, got a shin splint and now I can't run but still have to go to Practice.